“Stop,” the elf demands harshly, hoisting the lantern high above her head. “Do not go further.”
Baralinion pauses, and looks over his shoulder. His blade gripped as tightly as he could but even then it looked as if it would fall from his grasp should a strong wind blow. His eyes were deep and sullen. She could almost here the wheezing as he struggled to breath and fought with the entirety of his being to simply stand how ever wavering it may be. He smiles and extends his hand towards her as a tear trickles down his cheek and the chain mail rustling softly as he moved.
"Its okay... I don't fear the dark. I will protect you."
She watches him uncertainly before reaching out to take his hand. “Not yet. You are not strong enough yet to face the Mirkwood. Now you must awake and help your fellows.”
He looks to her puzzled, then looks towards the darkness that lay before them. His darkened slate eyes almost peering through it as if trying to stare into the nothingness. "I'm not awake already? I'm.. I"m so confused? Where am I? How did I get here?" He turns back to her with a tearful gaze and at that moment his strength fails him and with a rustle of chainmail and a clattering of steel he collapses onto himself with a gasp and wheeze.
"I... I can feel it... It seeks to consume me... I feel as though.. I cannot move.. What has taken my strength.."
He struggles to stand, planting the swords edge into the ground trying to drive himself up with it. A hiss and wheeze again forcing itself from his lungs as he once more faces the Elleth. Looking into her eyes without fear or remorse.
"How.. How do I get out?"
She keeps a tight hold on his hand, using her own strength to pull him up to his feet. Whatever feral haze had brought her to him seems to have faded, allowing for some clarity. “You must want to wake, young one. Your friend, the silvan. Listen for his voice. Not mine.”
"I can hear him.. I can hear him crying, begging me to wake but.. But I do not know how..."
Baralinion grasps her hand with what he perceived to be a firmness of a bear which to her at this point would feel like nothing more than a cold cloth within her own hands. His eyes had already lost what little glimmer they still held and it was quite obvious he was fading quickly.
"How.. How will I find you again? How.. Where? What.. Whats your name? I beg of you. Give me a token so that I may find you."
The ancient elleth hesitates once more before letting out a gentle sigh. She reaches into the several pouches on her belt and hands him a whittled totem of an owl.
“The kin of this forest know me as Redoril.”
He grasps her hand gently and kneels before her, nearly collapsing again before bowing his head and stammering. "I.. I will find you." That had been the last word that left his lips before he simply faded. Disappearing from this plane of the dreams.
